


Second Spring

by starwarned



Series: Fictober 2020 [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Autumn, Domestic Fluff, Fictober, Fictober 2020, Flufftober, Flufftober 2020, Fluffy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, M/M, Rain, Slice of Life, also no plot, just fluff, literally so soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26788501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned
Summary: Fictober Day 2Prompt: First day of cool weather!It's finally cold outside but lest we forget that Simon and Baz live in London.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Fictober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951321
Comments: 9
Kudos: 68





	Second Spring

**Author's Note:**

> finished this just before the end of the day! it's 11:45 pm where I am lol so here u go.
> 
> prompt from [this list](https://subpar-selkie.tumblr.com/post/628080856195547136/flufftober-prompts) on tumblr!

Baz spent half an hour picking out an outfit for me today. 

That’s a fairly typical amount of time for Baz to choose what trousers he’s going to wear for the day but I’m quite used to stumbling to my wardrobe, tugging out the first pair of trackies I can find, and only putting on a shirt if I  _ have  _ to leave the flat. (I never do). 

The outfit he picked is really nice - of course it is, it’s  _ Baz  _ \- and I keep staring at myself in the mirror like I have nothing better to do. He’d shoved a white and grey striped sweater and black jeans at me without any further explanation, spelled my wings away, and left the room. 

I stare at myself in the mirror and debate whether I should wear long socks or short ones. I’m trying to picture Baz in my mind and what he’d say to me, but he just keeps imaginary-sneering at me. I stop thinking about Baz when I slide on long socks and hope that’s the right decision. 

Baz and I are supposed to be meeting Penelope and Shep for brunch (even though it’s  _ breakfast  _ time and nowhere near lunchtime. 8:45 AM is far too early for brunch and I’ll die on that hill). Penny’s texted me four photos of her and Shep at the restaurant already, each with a climbing degree of interest from Shep, who isn’t paying attention in the first, then smiling, then flashing a thumbs up, then finally kissing Penny on the cheek in the last photo. 

“Snow?” Baz calls from outside the door. “Have you figured out how to put the jeans on right side out?” 

My impulse is to roll my eyes but the smile hitting my features stops me from doing so. Even just hearing Baz and knowing that he’s  _ here _ , in my flat, being my boyfriend sends a thrilled chill through my spine. 

“Yes!” I call back. “Prick,” I add, mostly under my breath. (I know he can hear me. Vampire hearing and all). 

“Can I come in?” he asks even as he’s opening the door to the bedroom. 

I stay staring at myself in the mirror until Baz has stepped up behind me. He’s smirking and I know he’s proud of his choice to match us. He’s wearing a black turtleneck and a grey crewneck sweater paired with his favorite dark wash jeans. He looks fucking amazing and I’m not too proud to say that we look really good together. 

“You look good,” I mumble, leaning my back into Baz’s chest slightly. 

He wraps his arms around my hips and settles his chin into my shoulder. “You too, darling. Thanks to me.” 

I turn my head so I can kiss Baz’s cheek. “It’s going to be too hot to wear this,” I say, shaking the sleeves of my sweater. 

Baz squeezes my middle and makes eye contact with me in the mirror. “Have you opened the weather app recently? Crack a window, you insufferable fool.” 

“It’s mid-September,” I insist. “It’s not supposed to be cold yet.” I drop my hands to hold onto Baz’s forearms. The fabric of the jumper is soft and I absentmindedly rub my fingers over it. 

“Too bad,” Baz mumbles and presses a line of kisses along my jaw. 

I don’t want to even  _ think  _ about going out now. Not when Baz opens his mouth against my chin and I can feel his teeth - his  _ fangs  _ \- on my skin. “Baz,” I whisper. 

“Let’s go,” Baz says, squeezing me tightly when he nips softly at my jaw. He lets go of me completely and I try not to whine with the loss. I straighten up and give myself one last look in the mirror, shakily patting down the front of the sweater, before stepping away. 

Baz grins at me when I turn to face him. Merlin, he looks incredible. 

“Ready?” Baz asks, holding out a hand to me. 

I take it and follow him to the living room where we both slide on our shoes. (He doesn’t appreciate me wearing the same old ratty trainers that I always do but I refuse to be taken completely out of my comfort zone for  _ one  _ double date). 

Baz steps out into the cold air first and I follow behind, blindly shutting the door behind me because I can’t focus on anything but the  _ torrential downpour  _ that’s happening outside my flat. Not only is it at least twenty degrees colder than it was yesterday, but the rain is practically falling sideways, pelting both of us. 

“You failed to mention we’re in the middle of a hurricane,” I say, facetiously, immediately tucking my hands under my armpits to warm them up. 

“Fuck off, Snow,” he says, ducking behind me and rushing inside to get both of us raincoats (which we have to pull out much too often for my liking). 

He puts mine on me like I’m a four-year-old who doesn’t have control over his limbs yet but I’m not about to complain. It makes me feel oddly safe. And when his cool hands press against the back of mine as he adjusts the cuffs of my jacket, I get gooseflesh. 

“Happy first day of Fall,” I say once he’s finished putting his own raincoat on. 

Baz rolls his eyes but tugs on my sleeves to pull me into a kiss. 


End file.
